AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You take care of getting Carrie to your place. Friday night. Six o’clock. I’ll make sure the rest of the party is there,” Dylan says, his words sounding sinister and mischievous.
“I’m not sure, man,” I say, running my hand through my hair.
“Trust me, Sawyer. You get her there at six and I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Fine,” I grumble, not really looking forward to having Carrie in my house once more. “I need to talk to AJ.”
“Actually, wait,” he says, shocking me.
“What? I can’t wait, the longer I leave her hanging, the worse it’s getting. I need to fix this–”
“I get that, really I do, but is she going to believe you? Just trust me, Soy. She’s not going to believe you until you know for sure, right? You need proof.”
I think of her reaction Sunday morning and how much she probably hates me right now. The thought of her hurting, alone, and not holding her is as unbearable as the memories that haunted my fitful dreams last night. But I think he’s right. I need to have proof that I was set up.
But avoiding her might actually kill me first.
* * *
Of course I ignore his suggestion. Wouldn’t you?
No, I don’t go all crazy ex on her, stalking her every move through a far-reaching telephoto lens. (Admittedly, I consider it.) Instead, I keep doing the little things I’ve been doing to show her that I care. That I love her.
First off, there’s bribery. I’m not above it. I used it to my advantage. I may have gotten voucher tickets to next season’s Nationals games–six games total–for a coworker (the custodian) to have a copy of her classroom key accidentally left on my desk. Every man has a price, and fortunately for me, his price was baseball tickets.
That key granted me access to her room to leave her lattes and sweet treats. This way, there’s no chance of running into each other and upsetting her further. I’d never want to do that at work. It’s hard enough just to be in the same building as her without reaching out or dropping by. It’s even worse when I’m sitting in my little office, deep in the building, down the long, dark hallway behind the gym, and think about Bryce’s classroom being positioned right next to hers. So as much as I want to casually walk by her classroom (five times a day), I don’t want to see her upset anymore.
Could the fact that I’m leaving her coffee and goodies on her desk (with a note each day) be construed as hurting her? Quite possibly. But that’s not my intention. All week, I make sure to tell her one of the many things I love about her, and each day, I end the note with the same thing. I love you. Eternally yours, Sawyer.
So now here we are, Friday, and I’ve managed to make it through the week with very minimal contact. There was one run-in in the teachers’ lounge, resulting in death glares from the school receptionist, Brandy. I also saw her in the gym after school yesterday when she was gearing up for her first cheerleading practice. I sat in my office like a lovesick loser and just soaked in every word she spoke to the girls about teamwork, dedication, and practicing hard.
It was torture.
Like the waiting.
That’s what I’m doing now. Waiting for Carrie to come over so Dylan and I can try to expose her deceptive and drugging ways. I heard the door to my garage open a few minutes ago, letting me know that my brother and cousin are here. The plan was for them to go to my downstairs office and wait, while I pace the living room in anticipation of the she-devil who used to wear my ring.
Finally, I see headlights coming up the drive. She parks in front of the garage, clearly expecting to be staying for a while. Little does she know she’s already overstayed her welcome.
There’s a soft knock on the door. I open it, fake smile plastered on my face, as I let my ex-wife into my home. It literally takes every ounce of patience I have not to unleash six days’ worth of anger and frustration on her. It also takes all of my self-control not to pull back when she leans up on her tiptoes and kisses my lips.
“I missed you,” she coos, wrapping her arms around my waist and pressing her fake tits into my chest.
I’m tense, and I’m sure she feels it. It’s not her arms I want around me, not her lipstick I want smeared on my lips.
“Come in,” I tell her, extracting her body from mine. Her bright white teeth shine with her smile as she gazes up at me with those big hazel fuck-me eyes. She has perfected that look over her career, and I’m ashamed to admit she had it down pat with me too.
In the living room, I go to the coffee table, to the chilled bottle of wine and two glasses. Popping the cork, I pour us each a glass, as she gets comfy on the couch, much like she did last Saturday night. “Are we celebrating something?” she asks when I hand her a glass.
“Sure are. I mean we’re back together, right?” I choke out over the lump in my throat.
“We are,” she coos sweetly, giving me another full wattage smile.
“And I’m glad, too,” I lie. “I mean I am a little confused about how I went from telling AJ how much I loved her one minute and in bed with you just a few hours later,” I add, taking a seat across from her.
“Well, when it’s right, it’s just right, ya know? We were destined to be together.”
“Yeah,” I reply dryly. “It still just doesn’t add up to me. I mean, last I remember, I was fully prepared to take my relationship with AJ to the next level. Then bam,” I say loudly, “I’m back together with you.”
